The Two of Us
by BimadaBomily
Summary: A look at Chandler and Monica's infertility journey. {CM}


I found this story on my computer tonight. I started it four years ago! Found it and was inspired to finish it. I first fell in love with _Friends_, and Chandler and Monica, when I was a freshman in high school, fourteen years old, in 1999 and season six was currently on the air. I wrote a lot of _Friends_ fanfic through high school and early college (when the show ended). Since then I've drifted to other fandoms and written other things. My oldest _Friends_ works are still on this site (though, when you go to read them for some reason quotation marks and words have disappeared - and it is OBVIOUSLY the work of a fourteen year-old fangirl). Now that I'm a thirty-four year-old first grade teacher, I feel like I see Chandler and Monica and their relationship differently than I did back then. And it's even better this time around. This started rolling around in my head after a Netflix binge and here we go, presto! But all this is just to say – obviously, Chandler and Monica shipping is _eternal_.

* * *

The moment Chandler told her the news – that they could "keep trying, but there's a good chance this may never happen for us"—she felt her world come crumbling down. She'd wanted to be a mother _forever_. She was always the little girl playing with her dolls, the teenager naming her future children, the twenty something that scared away her boyfriends by talking of children too early, the woman who broke up with a man she wanted to marry because he didn't want to have (more) children. She loved taking care of others – her friends, her family, hell she was even a _chef_ because she loved to prepare elaborate meals for others to enjoy. Everything about her screamed _mother_.

When he told her, she couldn't process how huge it was at first or what it really meant. She felt the sinking feeling in her stomach right away, the tears sprang to her eyes immediately, but to understand how very huge this was, what it meant for their future – their lives and their marriage – it took a while for her to process that.

She never would've _imagined_ at that moment, or in the days and weeks or even year to come when the pain was raw and fresh and real and _hard_, that one day she would say it was probably the best thing that ever happened to her. To them.

Holding Emma on her first birthday, Chandler by her side while none of their other friends were anywhere to be found on this special day, the pain hit her hard.

"I want one," she said longingly to Chandler. He smiled back at her and agreed.

By that point, they had come to accept it. They knew their path was adoption, they were not pining for biological children or wishing for what could-have-been any longer. Still, there were no guarantees, there was no child yet – and the waiting game continued. It still hurt. It hurt even more when she held Emma in her arms.

She loved her niece with all her heart. She really and truly did – no questions asked.

But she couldn't help but feel a painful jealousy whenever she thought about how Emma came to be. Ross and Rachel – pregnant by _accident_. Just like that. No trying, no thinking twice about it, no struggles, no negative pregnancy tests, no tears, no anything. Just all of a sudden, here comes Emma. And this wasn't a first for Ross. No, this was his _second_ child, second _unplanned_ child, second child that came to him as if it was the easiest thing in the world. And Emma… Emma even had the name she'd always thought she'd give to her own daughter.

_Why her_, she'd wondered, feeling guilty about it every time. Why was _Ross_ perfectly able to have children, but she had an inhospitable environment? Her mother had had trouble conceiving, too. That's why they called Ross their miracle child. Why did _she_ have to inherit her mother's issues? She, the one who was meant to be a mother? Why didn't Ross have any fertility issues? How was any of this fair?

Emma was one. She and Chandler could've been here celebrating Emma's birthday with her first little cousin in tow. Or, had it all worked out, she could've been too big to get down on the floor with her niece and play with her stuffed animals. Or….

_Stop it, Monica_, she told herself.

She had to stop herself from the what ifs or the could've beens reguarly.

It was just hard watching Emma grow, because the day Emma was born was the day she and Chandler had started trying to get pregnant. And the older Emma got, the emptier she felt sometimes.

When they handed Jack to her, all was right in the world.

_Twins_. How they hell had they ended up with twins?

From the instant she laid her eyes on her son, she loved him as if he was her own. When her daughter followed right behind him, her heart was _so_ full. Chandler's was, too, she knew, despite his momentary panic and freak out about there being _two_ babies instead of just _one_.

"It's a girl?!" he'd gasped with joy, all his fears suddenly vanishing, when he found out they'd have one of each. Monica's heart burst at his pure joy at the thought of having a daughter.

_I love this man so much_, she thought, and then her little girl came into this world and her next thought was _I love this baby girl so much_.

One of her biggest fears about adopting had been her worry about loving her children as if they were biologically hers. Would she love them as much as a child she carried inside of her, felt move and kick, spent hours in labor with, saw herself and Chandler in its features?

And in an instant, though she had nothing to compare her love to because she had no idea how biological parents loved _their_ children, she had the answer: yes.

"It means…"

"_Chandler_," she pleaded with that one word. He knew. He understood. He stopped fumbling around for jokes and spoke to her straight out.

He was terrified to give her this news. Being a mother was always her biggest dream. Out of the six of them, Monica was the one everyone knew was destined to be a mother. Not Phoebe, who had carried and given birth to her brother's triplets and would most likely be able to go on and carry her own children one day. Not Ross, who had not one, but two children. Not Rachel, who'd accidentally gotten pregnant. Not Joey (obviously), and not himself, who they'd watched deal with a fear of commitment for many years.

When he fell in love with her, he knew what he was in for. He knew, even when they were still sneaking around, late nights and early mornings sneaking into and out of apartments 19 and 20, that he was going to have to get over his fear of marriage and commitment and all that crap. At first, it hadn't been a worry getting involved with Monica who wants a lot of babies, because what they had had just been fun – _one night_ of fun. Then a second night. Then it seemed to become a fun fling. And then just as suddenly, it wasn't, and before he knew it, he was evaluating what this might mean - and what was strangest to him about all of it was that it was pretty easy to stop fearing all the things he had always feared.

And now he had to be the one to break this news to her, to break her heart, when he had promised her he would always be the one to make her happy.

He was the one who couldn't make her a mother. He was going to be the one to make her the unhappiest she had ever been.

_Not even two years into the husband thing and you already suck_, he'd thought as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

He held her for a while – it felt like hours, but he was sure it was probably only minutes – until she pulled away and looked him in the eyes, her own teary eyes too much for him to take.

"Are you okay?"

"Okay?" he asked, pondering the meaning of the word at the moment. "I'm – no." She just nodded and hugged him again, feeling like the only place she could ever be safe again was his arms. "But Monica, we _are_ going to figure this out." He closed his eyes, letting the pain wash over him for a moment, feeling Monica nod against him. He wasn't sure if she truly believed him or not. How _could_ they figure this out if there was nothing they could do?

She took a long, hot shower – which turned into a long, cold shower after a while. Letting the water hit her soothed her in a way she hadn't expected. The hot shower mellowed her. The cold shower numbed her. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the bathroom, but she was expecting Chandler to comment – sarcastic or otherwise- when she joined him in their bedroom.

She found him sitting in bed, under the covers, back against the headboard. Normally he would be reading a book or watching the news, but he wasn't doing either of those things. Normally, he would ask her if everything was okay or make some kind of quip about how long she took in the shower. _Save any water for the fish, Mon? _She suddenly wished beyond all else that they were in a place where he'd joke and quip and be sarcastic.

_Everything is going to change_. The thought hit her like a ton of bricks.

She didn't ask him anything, but she climbed into bed and under the covers with him. He slid down into bed and turned off the light. She rolled towards him and found him in the dark, arm sliding around his chest and she snuggled into his side.

When they were like this, sometimes, it reminded her of those early days when they were sneaking around. They would snuggle together in one of their bedrooms, Joey or Rachel sleeping just a wall away, none of their friends (until, not long later, Joey) any the wiser.

They'd always been a group of six. Sure, they would hang out in different configurations, they all had their different relationships with one another – everything from brother and sister to ex-lovers to college roommates and childhood friends – but it was always the six of them, a unit. Whatever happened to one of them indirectly happened to all of them. If Ross and Rachel had a fight – they all knew. If Joey slept with a girl – they all heard about it. If Phoebe had a weird dream, she told them all about it.

She and Chandler changed all that that night in London.

At first they didn't tell anyone because they weren't sure what the hell they had done. Then it was because they weren't planning to continue. Then it was because, again, they didn't know what the hell they were doing. Somewhere along the line, seemingly overnight, they went from 'goofing around' to being in a relationship.

And none of their friends had any clue.

The months they spent together, secretly (even after Joey found out), they were hanging out with their friends, as a unit, the six of them – but it was always, in some way, the two of them. A joke would come across differently to them and they would lock eyes. They would make a quip to each other that would fly over everyone else's head. They'd sneak looks and touches when everyone's back was turned. Someone would make a comment and a seemingly normal reply – like "Maybe I could" when Phoebe had said she couldn't give any one of them up – was a whole conversation of their own.

To this day, she's pretty sure that's why they survived – their relationship flourished without anyone's involvement. They grew closer together than she ever could've imagined while they were in their own little world, a twosome in the midst of a group of six.

Right now, none of their friends had any idea what they were going through, what their world had become. Tomorrow they would tell them – their friends would support them, she knew. But suddenly it was like it was the two of them, intertwined with the six of them, again.

Inhaling the scent of him, suddenly – she was sobbing.

He wasn't surprised, or if he was, he didn't react, He simply held her and kissed her on the forehead, the two of them falling asleep together.

The trip to Dr. Connolly's office confirmed everything they already knew - it wasn't going to happen naturally. "Keep having sex on a regular basis," he'd said. But now it was down to "other pathways."

Leaving the office, she was quiet. Chandler was quiet, too – maybe following her lead or maybe this situation was so _out there_ it was beyond his sarcasm as a shield mechanism. She hadn't heard a sarcastic comment from him in over 24 hours now.

"Let's get lunch," he finally said as they emerged from the medical building and onto the busy street. Monica blinked at him, trying to understand.

"Don't you have to go back to work?"

"No."

His job was still so new – he couldn't be taking these kinds of risks. She couldn't let this ruin anything else.

"Chandler –"

"Mon, I'm not leaving you alone right now, okay? So, do you want to go get lunch or do you want to go home and eat?"

She bit her lip – momentarily wondering if she should fight him harder on the not going to work thing, but deciding that she really did _not_ want to be without him right now. "Let's go eat. Somewhere quiet though."

Their food was served quickly and their waitress smiled at them. "Let me know if I can getcha anything else, Dolls! My name is Anne Marie!" and she was off.

It may have been the most mature conversation she'd ever had with Chandler – ever. As her husband, as her boyfriend, as her friend, as her neighbor, as her brother's college roommate.

As they discussed their options, she found herself confessing to Chandler that watching another woman carry their baby would be too hard for her, something she hadn't realized was the truth until she spoke it.

"Sperm donor?" he asked calmly, taking a bite out of his sandwich. In another situation she might wonder if anyone was overhearing their seemingly inappropriate lunchtime vocabulary. Right now, however, the vocabulary seemed perfectly acceptable, as it was their whole world.

"Possible," she said, chewing on her salad, thinking it over. She could still carry a baby. They could still be parents. Maybe the options _weren't_ so grim. Sperm donor could be the way to go. Out of all their choices, it seemed to be the most appealing. It allowed them to have a baby to raise, and it allowed her to experience pregnancy and childbirth.

So why did she still feel a sense of dread, like there was no way out?

This was the answer. It had to be. Would_ he_ be okay with this? It was, at the moment, her number one choice. But she feared voicing too much enthusiasm for the option that would most likely be the one that would be hardest for her husband. "Would you – would that be okay with you? You'd feel okay with that?"

She studied his eyes carefully as she asked, and she saw a quick flash of something. So slight that she would've missed it if she hadn't been looking for it.

"Of course," he said genuinely. "I want this for you – to be able to carry the baby, I mean. And if that's how we can get that to happen, that's the answer. And we'll be parents."

_Good Lord, this man loves me_, she thought, realizing with a new intensity his love for her, deeper than she had ever felt it before.

They seemed to find a sense of peace at their decision – they had a plan. They had a way out of this black hole. They would get things back on track. They'd figured it out, just like he had promised.

He wasn't crazy about using someone else's sperm to father their child. But really, was that any different than adoption? A child he would raise through adoption wouldn't have been fathered with his sperm, either. At least this way Monica would get to carry the baby and give birth and he could experience it all with her. At least their baby would be partly biologically theirs. At least there was the chance that their baby could have Monica's eyes or Monica's smile or Monica's anything, really – there was no going wrong. Except for maybe the obesity gene. Or the obsessive compulsiveness. But even then.

He felt a sense of relief.

He'd promised her they'd figure this out. He had to come through on that.

She came into the bedroom that night, serious expression on her face.

"What is it?" he asked her. Weren't they figuring this out? Why did she look so stressed still? Why did she look _more_ stressed than before?

Walking into their room, she glanced at Chandler sitting on their bed in the t-shirt she found sexiest on him. For some reason, she loved this gray t-shirt. It was soft, it was the right color on him and it fight him just right. A million thoughts flashed through her mind and then she felt that feeling again, that instant thought. _Everything is going to change. This can change our entire marriage._

_If you let it._

"Chandler, we – we can't – this can't change us."

"What?" he blinked at her, totally lost. Rightfully so, she figured.

"Dr. Connolly said to keep having sex. That it could happen."

"Are you trying to seduce me or…" It was his first quip in a day and Monica should have felt relieved, but instead she felt frustrated. She was worried about them and he was feeling carefree again?!

"Chandler!"

"Sorry," he said immediately, realizing that maybe she was someplace he wasn't. "What's the matter?"

"He said to keep having sex on a regular basis and maybe it would happen one day. We can't – we can't do that. It's not going to happen."

He frowned at her, trying to read her face. "But it could always –"

"No. We can't think like that. It will ruin us." She sighed and took his hand. "I mean – I want to have sex regularly. But I don't want it to become about _this_. I don't want us to spend the rest of our lives – or at least the next ten years of our lives – having sex and always thinking _maybe this is the time it happens_. I don't want to keep those hopes up. We don't need that pressure. I don't want making love to you to become about getting pregnant _every single time_ for the rest of our lives. If we think like this we'll always be thinking 'Maybe we should do it tonight' or 'I don't _really_ want to but this could be the time' or 'How come it still didn't happen?' It won't be… it'll be like we're constantly failing and that's not – that's not what our sex life should be about. It should be about us, from here on out. That's it. Our sex life has been _amazing_ since day one and I don't want to lose that with you, I don't want to turn it in to something sad, or a chore, or anything other than what it's always been."

He didn't have the words to respond so he leaned in and kissed her instead. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, her eyes shining with tears. "Chandler, I love you so much I just – thank you."

Not only was Chandler taking sudden half days off of work to go eat lunch, he was now probably down one co-worker friend after they had interrogated Zach to the point of no return.

This weird feeling in the pit of her stomach would not go away. She assumed it was the whole situation – the devastation of the news and not having a solid solution yet. The more they questioned Zach, the stronger the sensation got. The more positive answers he gave, the stronger it got.

What the hell was going on?

Probably feeling how insane this is. Would this man really just give us his sperm? Could Chandler work with someone by day and raise a baby that looks like him by night? Could you? she shot back at herself. Shit, she realized.

No.

They were Chandler and Monica. They were equals. They were fair. They would either have a baby that was biologically all theirs, or one that was biologically neither of theirs. There would be no going halfsies on this.

Could she give up going through pregnancy and childbirth? What she'd dreamed of since she was a child?

Yes.

If she couldn't have Chandler's baby, she wasn't going to have anyone's baby.

Thanksgiving Day, it was the two of them again. There was the six of them, arguing over Thanksgiving plans – who had been late, who had been where, who had been wrong. But their friends were on one side of the door and the two of them on the other.

As their lives went on, it became that way more and more often, and rightfully so – they were a married couple within a group of friends.

As the adoption procedure began, as they searched for a house, it started becoming the two of them more and more.

"We're getting a house. And a baby. We're growing up!"

They were, they were growing up – together, the two of them. Gone were the days where their biggest decision was who was going to sneak across the hall to who and their biggest worry was their friends finding out about them. Together, they'd come all this way. But in some ways it was still so very much the same- the two of them, together.

And there they were, in the delivery room, together. Monica wasn't the one giving birth and yet, they still got to experience their children coming into this world, together. The joy at hearing they had a son, the shock of finding out it was twins, and the joy of finding out they also had a daughter – that was all theirs, together.

Both of them fell in love, two times over, that day. From the moment she held her babies, she never could have imagined this happening any other way. These children were meant to be theirs, and she couldn't imagine they could love them more.

The entire experience proved to them their devotion to each other, their unconditional love for one another, and the fact they could make it through the hard times, strong and supporting each other along the way. They wouldn't have become as strong and solid as they were had they not weathered this storm together.

The two of them.

And now… the four of them.


End file.
